


For Sporadicartsncrafts

by Master_of_the_Rebels



Series: Tumblr Prompts [3]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen, M/M, alfred is a sly old man, implied jason/tim, tim is about to find that out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:01:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_of_the_Rebels/pseuds/Master_of_the_Rebels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: how about some fun alfred bein grandfatherly to his birds?</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Sporadicartsncrafts

"Good morning, Alfred."  
   
The butler turned away from the dishes he was drying, eyebrows raised in surprise when Tim's unusually gravelly voice rolled into the kitchen with an air of lackluster effort.  A glance at the digital clock above the oven showed the time at nearly 11A.M.  "Good morning, indeed, Master Timothy.  Late night, I presume?" He watched Tim carefully lever himself onto one of the stools at the island countertop, being extremely cautious as he settled, and barely managing to contain a wince.  "A rough one, as well, judging by your demeanor and voice."  
   
Tim paused for the breath of a heartbeat before speaking, and Alfred's eyes narrowed just the slightest at the obvious tell.  "Yeah, had a bit of a run-in with Red Hood.  He decided to make my life difficult by interfering in my stakeout." Tim licked his lips and picked up a cinnamon scone from the platter that Alfred had set out a few hours ago, when Damian had demanded an English High Tea table setting for breakfast.  Breaking the tip and popping it into his mouth, Tim continued, "Apparently he thought it was past due for my monthly beating."  
   
Alfred's hands faltered on the teapot he was toweling, catching Tim's attention, and the look the older man leveled the teenager with was anything but believing.  "Is that what they're calling it these days?" Alfred mused, humor in his words, and Tim's face turned to one of flushed mortification at being caught in the lie.  
   
A true Bat, to use something nearly identical to the truth in order to lie.  It may have worked, too, had it been anyone other than Alfred.  After all, he was responsible for teaching Master Bruce such a technique.  
   
Tim coughed as he swallowed the pastry, hand going up to massage at his throat and only perpetuating the embarrassing tension hanging between them at what the motion further implied about his "beating."  With a somewhat reproving, though not unkind sigh, Alfred turned towards the sink with the teapot and said calmly, "I will make you some lemon tea, Master Timothy.  It is an excellent remedy for your current ailment.  And perhaps some honey to go with it, rather than sugar, yes?"  
   
Tim's head dipped down with a small smile, the red finally crawling its way up his ears, and he took another bite of scone with a muttered, "That'd be great, thanks."  
   
Alfred bustled about heating the water and measuring out some loose-leaf tea into an ornate infuser.  He looked up when Dick came swinging around the corner with a yelp, socks sliding on the freshly polished tile flooring.  Steadying himself with the help of the doorframe, Dick grinned at the butler.  "Hey, Alfred!  Could you possibly pack me an on-the-go lunchbox?  I'm already going to be running late to the company's board meeting as it is." After getting an affirmative, Dick finally noticed Tim and turned on him.  "Which, I'm told, you were supposed to go to but decided last minute to take the day off.  What's up?  Damian finally getting to you?"  
   
Tim scowled and flicked a partially melted cinnamon chip at his older brother, who merely caught it with a grin and tossed it into his mouth.  "He isn't getting to me.  I just wanted a day off." Silence filled the room for a moment, as Tim momentarily forgot about his sore throat.  Alfred simply made a tutting sound and lifted the squealing kettle from the stove.    
   
Dick frowned deeply and skated forward flat-footed on his socks until he was right beside Tim, leaning down with a worried expression to feel at the teen's forehead.  "Are you okay, Timmy?  You sound awful.  You getting sick?"  
   
Tim jerked away from the hand and regretted it immediately when Dick's concern turned to confused hurt at his denial.  Immediately wanting to soothe that expression, Tim reached out to grasp the man's fingers, smiling when they clutched back.  "Sorry.  I don't know what it is, I don't want you catching anything."  
   
Before Dick could respond, Alfred set a teacup and saucer before the pair, followed by the steeping tea and a small tub of honey with a spoon.  "Your tea and honey, Master Timothy.  For your throat," Alfred emphasized, and Tim studiously made eye contact with everything but the old man.  Dick smiled pleasantly at the pair, blissfully unaware of the previous night's happenings, and reached out to pour the tea for Tim and dole out a couple overflowing teaspoons of the thick sweetener.  
   
"Drink up, Timmy!  We need you all better soon.  Can't be having that charming voice turning into something like our friendly dark knight's." Dick winked, and made to leave, passing Damian in the doorway and ruffling the protesting boy's hair with a laugh.  
   
"Pennyworth, I require your garment expertise."   
   
Tim rolled his eyes and took a sip at the hot drink, closing his eyes as the tart and sweet flavor swept over his tongue and down his throat, already feeling the healing balm it created.  
   
"Ah, yes, Master Damian, wait just a moment while I fetch the lint roller.  It appears Master Titus is rather fond of that particular jacket." Tim smirked when Damian performed a swinging little dance, spinning around in frustration in an attempt to see where the dog hair was attached.    
   
He chewed on another bite of scone while he watched the butler kneel to drag the tool across the boy's back, all while Damian prattled on about needing to make sure his suit was perfect for when he attended the board meeting today because, "There is no use in expecting _Grayson_ to be properly dressed and well-maintained in a setting void of salacious women." Tim snirked into his cup.  
   
For once, he'd have to agree with Damian on something.  
   
Alfred adjusted the boy's disheveled collar with a knowing smile entirely for Tim's benefit before ushering him out the door at an echoing shout from Dick.  Tim finished off his tea with a large gulp, already feeling better, and hopped down from the high stool.  "Thank you, Alfred.  I'm sorry you had to see me like this."  
   
Alfred nodded with a playful smile.  "Of course, Master Timothy.  Though I would perhaps be a bit more careful in the future." He picked up the empty cup with a meaningful look.  "He was distracted this morning, but Master Richard is not likely to miss the clues again."  
   
Tim bit his lip, the embarrassment rising once again, but he took it with grace and dropped his head in a show of obedience.  As he moved to leave, Alfred called out to him again.  "Oh, and Master Timothy?  Do tell Master Jason the next time you see him that he is welcome for lunch on Sunday.  Master Bruce will be out of town on business with Masters Richard and Damian.  I was thinking chilidogs for a break in the norm, wouldn't you agree?"  
   
With a grin, Tim slipped out.


End file.
